


Debt and Dishonor

by Chya



Category: Mutant X
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-29
Updated: 2003-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chya/pseuds/Chya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter from Noah means trouble for Jesse, while Brennan has an odd kind of girl problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debt and Dishonor

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Blood Ties and No Man Left Behind. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to JillyW for most excellent beta, patience and tolerance for many rants recently about a certain molecular boy who just will not shut up. Not that I'd actually want him to, of course.

"So good of you to come," the tall thin man said, his accent marking him as from New England.

"Like I had a choice," the shorter, greying, dark haired man griped as he failed to shake off the two goons that had firm grips on his arms. He squinted up into the tall man's dark eyes and wrinkled his nose in an effort to keep his glasses from sliding. "So, who do I have the honour of thanking for my, uh, escort?"

Any merriment in the tall man's subsequent chuckle was dissipated by the large, bare white room they were in. "Somehow, I didn't think 'honour' was a word in your vocabulary. Especially considering the reason you're here."

"Which would be?" The shorter man continued to try and wriggle out of his captors' grasp with no success.

"A little over twenty-five years ago your wife was taken seriously ill. You loved her so much that you pledged absolutely anything to me to make her well again." The shorter man's dark circled eyes widened in realisation and then horror behind his glasses, and the tall man continued. "How ironic that she chose to divorce you barely five years later for desertion. Nevertheless, the time has come to repay that debt."

The shorter man shook his head violently. "No, you can't. Please, anything else, but not that."

The taller man smiled in amusement. "You're assuming you know what I want."

"There…" The shorter man swallowed hard." Uh, you said at the time that the genetic modifications required to make her well again would affect the, uh, my, uh, the foetus she was carrying."

"Ah, so you do remember. And that I intended to have those modifications skewed as much as possible in a direction of my choosing."

"You…" The shorter man was starting to hyperventilate now. "Please, take me, please, not my son, please, no."

The tall man smiled indulgently. "But you don't have the skills your son does. Now, you are free to choose not to repay your debt, in which case you will be allowed to leave here, both alive and in one piece. I will then exact financial restitution of an amount to be decided. However, you should read this before making such a choice." The tall man held open a pristine folder containing a single page.

The shorter man visibly wilted, his head hanging in defeat as he nodded slightly.

Smiling, the tall man said, "Now, Mr Kilmartin, this is what I want you to do."

And as Noah listened to his instructions, he tried to figure out how he was ever going to get Jesse to trust him again.

XXXXX

Emma and Shalimar watched in amusement while the boys battled it out over one-on-one basketball. Shalimar called it exercising their testosterone levels, but Emma found the game fascinating on many levels. Opening herself up to them, Jesse's self-confidence was on an incredible high, unsurprising given that he'd spent the last month making some radical but successful modifications to the computer systems. From past experience, Emma was aware that Jesse's confidence levels had a direct correlation with his performance, and nowhere more obviously than on the basketball court. Brennan, on the other hand, was so totally comfortable in his own skin that his play was usually consistent, the only thing causing an adrenaline spike being when he thought he was about to lose. But Brennan thrived on that rush and he'd been called a hustler many times by both Jesse and Shalimar. He always denied it of course, with a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous grin, but Emma knew that Brennan needed to be on the underdog's side to get the boost that would propel him to victory. Therefore, if he started off badly she'd always bet on him to win, yet if he started off well she could never be so sure.

Today, however, things were pretty even and Emma thought that Jesse's self-assurance might give him the edge, although perhaps he was just a little too over-confident. Either way, it was a good game, with nothing between them, and neither man would have anything to be ashamed about.

Next to her, Shalimar's hormones were in overdrive, and while the feral didn't have any romantic interest in either of the young men duelling across the room, the natural increase in testosterone and pheromones that emanated from them reacted with her own hormones and, well… Emma blushed. Not that she could blame her friend in the slightest. Dressed in tanks and sweats, almost identical except that Brennan wore grey with a flash of red and Jesse wore black with a flash of white, they were of wildly differing builds, yet both were fit to the max, muscles clear and defined and glistening with sweat…

Emma's concentration broke as Shalimar nudged her, and glancing at the feral she saw that Shalimar was looking at her with laughing incredulity.

"Well," she said, feeling her face go red, and fidgeting as she realised she'd been caught. "I mean, you know," she trailed off.

"Mmm," Shalimar purred, looking over at the boys again. "Who could resist, huh?"

"Mail call!" Adam grinned as he came in, waving a couple of letters. It wasn't often that they got letters that weren't sent electronically, but they kept a box at a reasonably local post office just in case. "One for Brennan and one for Jesse. Shalimar, your mail order catalogues are in the trunk of the Audi; might I suggest you have Brennan help you?"

"Sure, no problem." Shalimar hopped down as the boys came over to grab their letters. "But Brennan, no peeking at the lingerie catalogue, you know it's not good for you."

Brennan put on his most injured puppy expression which really didn't work so well with the sweat and heaving muscles while he took his letter and handed Jesse his.

"New girlfriend?" Emma asked Brennan, as the heavy scent of paper saturated with perfume wafted over to them.

"Well, if it is, the fact that her nose doesn't work properly probably explains it," Jesse commented as he checked the return address on his letter.

"Oh, ha ha, guys, come on! If I remember right, she's really sweet."

"Brennan, please, don't tell me it's the one with the, erm…" Emma twirled her fingers by her ears. "…with the hair."

"Rainbow coloured extensions don't mean she's, uh, well, she's really cool, okay?" Brennan pouted and everyone else giggled at his little boy defensiveness.

A short spike of anger from Jesse had Emma turning in his direction, but he just grinned and said. "Now I whooped his ass my work here is done. Gonna catch a shower."

"Hey!" Brennan protested as they all began to disperse, "I was a point up!"

"Of course you were!" Jesse laughed as he retreated and slipped the unopened letter in a nearby bin.

As Emma departed with the chuckling Shalimar, Brennan was left mumbling to himself, "So, what is this? Pick on Brennan day? Jeez. At least somebody loves me."

Brennan inhaled the perfume and was left choking. He opened the letter and tried to remember what the rainbow haired girl's name was, and why he'd given her his postal address. His eyes widened as he read. He was all for commitment and all that with the right woman, but this Anya person was downright obsessive. And if there was one sure-fire thing that put him off a girl it was one that tried to tie him down from the off. Women with strange bodily odours excepted. Then he remembered why he'd given her his address - her intensity had put him off giving her his email or cell. But on the other hand, he'd been slightly drunk and she'd had the most amazing… hair… And the guys were right, overkill on the perfume.

Sighing and wondering what the best thing to do would be, he too went to get a shower. As he walked towards the bathroom, he stopped as he saw a puzzling, yet not unpleasant sight. He decided to leave it a moment so as to enjoy the view before, as any good friend would do, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Almost simultaneously Emma straightened, some paper clutched victoriously in her hand, spinning and blushing guiltily.

Brennan made a mental note to get her rummaging in bins more often as it did fabulous things to the scenery. "Lost something?" he asked.

"Er, yeah." Emma smiled brightly. "But I found it now." She paused a beat. "So, that was a good game, don't you think?"

"Yes," Brennan agreed, knowing a diversion when he saw one, especially one that unsubtle. "So what did you lose? Can I see?"

"Er," Emma hesitated and looked away for a moment before replying. "Nope." Brennan's eyebrow rose of its own accord and the flustered psionic rushed on. "I mean it's a surprise and I don't think… I mean…"

Brennan jumped to snatch the paper Emma was hiding behind her back, but the young woman, already on the defensive, was quicker and jumped back with a squeal. Brennan faked a left and dove right, catching Emma about the waist, and both fell to the floor laughing, although Emma refused to give up the paper, which left Brennan with only one option. He sat on her and tickled until, hiccupping, she gave in. "No fair!" she protested, laughing.

Brennan had no qualms about looking at the paper, knowing full well that Emma could easily have stopped him if she'd been that serious about not letting him see. They sat side by side as Brennan turned the paper over and over. It was the letter Jesse had thrown out and it was from Noah Kilmartin, his father.

"What were you planning to do with this?" Brennan asked thoughtfully.

"Quite honestly? I don't know. Ask Shal I guess. It just seems so wrong that Jesse's cutting his father out like this, and we all know he has issues there. I mean, I know that what Noah did has to hurt, but I just thought… I don't know what I thought. I saw Jesse throw it away without opening it and that's not like him and he was so angry, I thought I'd check it out."

"Sure. Hey, Em, would you let me deal with this?" Brennan asked seriously, and when she looked hesitant he added, "Please? We shouldn't be meddling, and he'll have a fit if he thinks we're all prying, but I think he needs to deal with this. And if he's going to hit someone over it, I'd rather it was me."

For a brief second, Brennan had the familiar impression that Emma was reading him, but then she nodded. "I'll keep the band-aids on standby," she laughed.

Brennan met Jesse coming out of the shower and handed him the crumpled letter. "Think you dropped this."

Jesse half smiled uncertainly. "So, what, your own mail so bad you have to read mine?"

"Nah, just noticed it wasn't opened. Return name says it's from your dad, so I thought you must have lost it by accident."

Rolling his eyes, Jesse screwed the envelope up into a tight ball. "It wasn't an accident," he growled, trying to get past Brennan who used his bulk to good effect.

Of course, Jesse could just phase, but Brennan was relying on the idea that Jesse might at least listen a bit before resorting to that. "You can't cut him out forever you know."

"Sure I can, watch me." Jesse tossed the ball of paper over his shoulder where it landed in a toilet bowl. "He shoots, he scores." Again, he tried to get past without success.

"Jess, just listen to me, just for one moment. Please?"

The younger man didn't reply, but set himself defensively with arms tightly folded and glare firmly in place.

Brennan took a deep breath. "Okay, so I know that Noah isn't exactly the father you wanted him to be." Jesse snorted derisively, but Brennan continued without pause. "Hell, I think he's a complete asshole, and the fact that he betrayed you, that must have hurt more than I can imagine. I can't even pretend to understand that. But what I do know is how it feels to not have a father at all, and I know that if I had one, no matter what he did, maybe I'd never forgive him, maybe I'd be angry at him my whole life. But at least he'd be there to be angry at, and that has to be better than having this huge hole where he should be."

Knuckling his eyes, Brennan realised that he wasn't explaining himself very well. "Ah, you know what I'm trying to say. Noah may have not been around a lot, and he might have set you up, but I was there too, remember? I know how much you loved, you idolised him, but at the end of the day, Noah is only human, and he's made mistakes like we all do. Maybe you should just talk to him, give him a chance?" At that point Brennan ran out of steam. He looked at the unmoved Jesse, threw up his hands in defeat and disappeared into the shower.

He didn't see a thoughtful Jesse fish a soggy mess of paper and running ink from the toilet.

"So, where are you guys off to?" Shalimar asked playfully as Jesse and Brennan headed towards the garage.

"Nowhere."

"A date."

Jesse and Brennan spoke simultaneously, and Shalimar laughed. "A nowhere date? Standard Operating for you… boys, then?" she giggled.

"You like to think," Brennan winked.

Shalimar sniffed, "Well, I'll just have to see if Emma wants to come shopping then, won't I?"

"Or Adam might need help figuring out the new programs. I left instructions, but uh, you know how these old people are." Jesse's grin was mischievous as Adam walked round the corner.

"Hey, less of that!" smiled the older man. "Or I'll have you cleaning out the sub-processors."

"Ooh-er, lets get out of here, Brennan, quick!"

"Oh, I don't know," Shalimar smirked, "you might get a kick out of it, cuz that's where Brennan keeps his net porno collection."

Brennan sparked the railing the feral was leaning on and she yelped at the sudden static. "Don't forget I know what you keep in your you-know-where," he grinned.

Shalimar made a motion of zipping her lips, while Adam called after the two young men, "Good luck and be careful!" as they vanished into the cavernous garage.

"Good luck and be careful?" Shalimar asked quizzically, with a hint of worry.

Adam shrugged. "A meeting between Jesse and Noah? Won't be fun."

Shalimar looked slightly shocked and upset. "His father?" Adam nodded. "He didn't tell me."

"I think it's one of those man things, Shalimar, so don't be put out. He asked me if he should go and I said yes. Noah is his family after all."

Shalimar shook her head. "D'uh, I know that. But, but, Brennan?"

"Yeah, I'm a little puzzled by that too."

XXXXX

Noah looked pretty rough, Jesse thought, as they sat on the fountain wall sharing hot dogs. He'd looked rough last time, but now he was gaunt and tired and looked a lot older than he had before.

They hadn't really said anything meaningful, just awkward pleasantries as neither seemed to know where to begin.

"Did you have to bring him along?" Noah nodded at Brennan's lanky form lazing under a tree with a book. "I did ask for you to be alone and you know how my job is –"

"No, actually I don't know," Jesse interrupted, a little sharper than he'd intended. "I don't know what your job is these days and besides, you should be grateful - he's the one talked me into giving you a chance."

"A chance, Jess? Is that all? I suppose Adam knows you're here too?"

"A chance is more than you deserve after setting me up like that. And yes, of course Adam knows I'm here, I'm not stupid, I learned well from the last time." Jesse squirmed under Noah's scrutinising gaze.

"You were such a trusting boy. I've changed all that haven't I?" Noah's voice was softly regretful and, with one part of his mind wondering what game Noah was playing, that regret grated.

"And how would you know?" he snapped. "It's not like you were ever there!"

Noah snorted slightly. "Your mother always kept me well informed. Mostly to make me jealous of what I was missing, I think."

Feeling his temper rapidly rising, Jesse turned on Noah. "Don't you ever talk about mom like that! She did her best, she did everything she possibly could for us!"

Noah half smiled and rolled his eyes. "Must have been hard with all that money –" he broke off, seeing that he was really pushing Jesse's buttons. "No, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. You're right. And I didn't ask you here to fight."

Jesse let out a breath and looked over towards Brennan, who was chatting with a girl. He smiled at the sight; the elemental always seemed to find them, wherever he was, whatever he was doing. "So why did you ask me here?"

Noah was silent for a moment while Brennan became engrossed in the girl. "To ask for your forgiveness," he said.

"I already told you – " Jesse began, still watching Brennan's interaction with the girl.

"No, I know," Noah interrupted, as the girl leaned in to kiss Brennan on the cheek. "You've already made your feelings clear in the past. I wanted to ask your forgiveness for this." A quick movement and Jesse started to mass, but it was too late. Noah had already stabbed a dart into his thigh.

Muscles were the first to go, suddenly weak knees no longer holding him upright, Noah supporting him on the way down only to relieve him of his ring. Hearing distorting and fading to blood rushing past his eardrums, but the sky, the leaves on the trees, the blades of grass and candy wrappers all sharp and bright like a polarised picture. And Brennan, lying unconscious by his tree as the girl, a blonde with sparking fingers stood triumphantly over him.

And then, without warning, even sight was gone.

XXXXX

When Brennan came to and slitted open his eyes, the first thing he saw through blurry dancing black spots was Shalimar leaning over him - and man, did she ever look pissed. He groaned as memory and a superior headache assaulted him at the same time. He really didn't like it when Shalimar was mad at him, hated that she felt hurt or worried enough to be mad at him, but this time he felt that he deserved her anger.

"'M sorry, Shal," he mumbled, and why the hell wasn't his mouth working properly? Her eyes widened and she suddenly looked more worried than pissed. He became aware of a deep bass booming around him somewhere, and skin that itched like prickly heat.

He needed to tell them what had happened but, with muscles all out of synch and senses gone haywire, he could only submit to whatever Adam deemed best.

"So how is he?" Emma came into the lab just as Brennan felt himself sliding towards a drug-induced sleep.

"He'll be okay with some rest," Adam said. "I think he was hit by a psionic who scrambled his brain, but he seems to improving. Any sign of Jesse?"

Emma shook her head. "No trace at all. Or of Noah. I guess we'll have to wait for Brennan to recover before we find out what happened. " She tore her gaze from the recumbent Brennan over to Adam. "I came to tell you that General Sperling's on the vid and wants to talk with you. Confidentially."

Brennan failed to hear any more as by then he was asleep.

XXXXX

Jesse woke up with a yell as the clamp bit home. The pain was shocking but fleeting, and he recognised the shackles of the sub-dermal governor through the groggy after-effects of whatever it was he'd been given.

He was strapped into a chair, but loosely, as if the Velcro were more to stop him slipping out, or making sudden movements than actually prevent him from escaping. Looking around the sparsely furnished white room, there were people silently watching him. A tall man, thin to the point of emaciation, Noah cowering in the corner and a black man in an army uniform as well as a couple of thugs, one of whom was setting up a PC on a trolley in front of him.

Resisting the impulse to ask why, where, who, how and what, Jesse waited patiently. On the negative side, he'd been drugged, abducted and restrained and Noah was here, but on the positive side, he was unharmed, probably able to escape if he put his mind to it, and Noah was here. Jesse laughed mentally. Never knew which side his father was on these days. So much for the hero of his childhood. Right now, Noah looked like a snivelling, cowardly bookkeeper, with his trench coat and broken glasses hanging haphazardly from his nose.

Still, nothing was said as the PC played a recording of a web cam conversation between the black man, Sperling, and Adam.

In a daze, Jesse watched as Sperling explained away his abduction as a method of getting him to their base with minimal risk of exposure. Told Adam that he was needed for a special ops assignment, that Adam owed him. Denied Adam any information on the mission other than it was a Code Black.

Code Black meant eyes only, no backup, high risk and official denial. He knew that from things Noah had told him in times past.

And was utterly shocked when he heard Adam agree that the government could use Jesse as they saw fit before signing off. He hadn't even asked to speak with him, hadn't given Jesse an option, hadn't even asked if he was all right.

The objective trained professional in him knew that the recording could well have been tampered with, in fact probably was, but he also knew that Adam had a ruthless side to him that had been brought to the fore all too easily in an encounter with a mutant not too long ago.

Either way, it was clear he was on his own, that if he ran now, he really would have nowhere to go.

"So, it looks like my services have been volunteered for me," he remarked resentfully.

"I would like you to agree to come along," the tall man said. "It would save us all so much trouble, not to mention it would get your father out of a very nasty hole."

Jesse looked at Noah, who shrugged apologetically. "Do you think I really care what kind of hole he's in?"

"Hmm, perhaps not. He was rather emphatic in his declaration that you wanted nothing to do with him. However, that's entirely irrelevant. He owes me a large debt and I intend to collect. One way or another, you are the price. As far as you're concerned, you'll be doing this for God and country."

"How do I know that?"

The tall man grinned, an unpleasantly vampiric sight. "You don't. But you will, I promise you that. For now you'll just have to take my word for it."

Used again.

By everyone he trusted.

"Sure, I'll do it. I mean, it's for the government right?"

"Right," whispered the tall man. "For the government."

Jesse thought about it all for a while as the other occupants of the room waited patiently. After weighing up what little he knew, he finally nodded. Playing along for a while at least, couldn't hurt. "I'll do it," he said harshly, and looked directly at Noah. "But I'm not doing it for you, and I'm not doing it for a government that's terrified of the mutant threat, yet doesn't hesitate at using mutants to do its dirty work. Nor am I doing it for Adam, who doesn't seem to have any compunction about sending us out to do the dirty work of others. I'm pretty sure you rigged that web call, but this wouldn't be the first time he's done it. I'm doing it because maybe, just maybe then everyone will owe me one."

The tall man's smile only broadened. "I don't care why you agreed. The important thing is that you have."

"What about this?" Jesse twisted his neck, indicating the governor.

"Not yet, dear boy. We'll release you when the time comes."

XXXXX

The next time Brennan awoke, the headache had receded to manageable proportions, and everything seemed functional again, if somewhat still and achy. Shalimar was still there, as was Emma, though the feral looked a little more sympathetic than she had before. But how did he go about telling them what had happened?

"Uh," he flinched away from both women. "See, there was this girl…" He trailed off as two pairs of identically narrowed eyes glared. Feeling somewhat nervous, he tried to explain what had happened, ending with a helpless shrug. "What can I say? I thought I was tagging along for moral support and referee duties if needed. I didn't think Jesse's old man would actually go and stick him. I mean, last time, maybe things got a little out of hand, but I saw Noah stick Jesse with a needle myself. What kind of father does something like that?"

"You wouldn't believe what some fathers would do to their kids," Shalimar muttered darkly, then shook herself. "But I think something more has to be going on here. I mean, why kidnap Jesse at all over an argument?"

"There is something more going on," Adam said from the doorway. "I just got off from the Pentagon and Jesse's fine. Apparently the whole kidnap routine was just a typically heavy-handed recruitment method by one of the secret services. Jesse's going to be gone for a while helping the government out."

"And you believe them?" Brennan and Shalimar both wore looks of complete incredulity.

Adam raised his hands. "I know, I know, but my hands are tied. Jesse's agreed to help them out."

"You spoke with him?" Shalimar demanded. "Did he look you in the eyes and tell you that himself?"

Adam shook his head. "No, I only have the word of a man I trust as much as anyone in the government."

Brennan snorted. "Well, that's not saying much. What's he doing for them, anyway?"

"I couldn't tell you even if I knew, which I don't," Adam apologised. "Top secret. Can you just trust me on this? Jesse is fine, he's being well taken care of and he'll be back here in a few days. It's classified, not dangerous."

As Adam left the room, Shalimar growled, "We'll see about that. Jesse's not the only hacker around here, you know."

Five minutes later, Shalimar screamed in frustration as one of Jesse's new modifications gave her the finger and booted her out of the system.

XXXXX

The truck that left the base was covered, leaving Jesse none the wiser as to where it was located. They would be transferring to a plane at some point, then another truck before the last stretch, which would be by foot. Once at their destination, Jesse would be required to phase a wall. That was the sum total of his knowledge as to what the mission was about.

There were six of them in total and all wearing identical black combats, sweaters and tee with the requisite boots and packs. Jesse had been partnered with Collier, the blonde that had taken Brennan out. Her mission was to baby-sit him, but she also carried one of two Palm Pilots that Intelligence had equipped them with. as well as a small arsenal dispersed about her person.

Seated opposite them were two men who stared at him with the same brittle gaze, Alwin and Sharford, both from the same unit as Collier and Cobb. Sharford, however, was an extensively qualified pilot, a skill that would apparently be crucial to the mission and it was Alwin's job to protect him. He carried the other Palm Pilot, and as he was a feral, Jesse found it amusing that the new mutants among them were being entrusted with the Intelligence.

Jesse looked from the corner of his eye at the third pair, and caught Noah glancing surreptitiously back at him. Some say that a look can convey a thousand words, but right here and now a look only confused things even more. For Noah had a deep anguish in his eyes that Jesse couldn't fathom the reason for. Next to him, Cobb, the small wiry babysitter for Noah who also doubled as the team medic, saw the looks and shook his head as he turned away.

XXXXX

"Brennan?" Adam walked into the training room with a puzzled expression on his face as he stared at his cell phone. "I've just had the Post Office call to ask you to go pick up a parcel."

"Really?" Brennan was just as puzzled as he put the barbell down and used his towel to wipe the sweat from his face. "I'm not expecting anything. Did they say who the sender was?"

"No," Adam was still staring at his mobile. "No, but they seemed a little concerned that it was ticking."

"Huh?" Brennan shook his head. "Okay, I'll go pick it up this afternoon."

Under cover of night, they were debarked from the plane and herded into the last covered truck that would take them to their final destination, and Jesse couldn't miss Cobb's attempt to be subtle and guide Collier to sit with him instead of her charge. Unfortunately, subtle wasn't something that Collier was very good at, myths about the female of the species notwithstanding. Nevertheless he found himself perched next to Noah on the rough wooden bench that ran along the side of the truck, and facing Alwin who was about as communicative as a rock, perhaps less so.

"You must think I'm pretty rotten right now," Noah leaned in and raised his voice a little over the rough mechanical whirr of the engine.

"That would be an understatement," Jesse replied, grabbing hold of a wrist strap as some stone or pothole threatened to send him head first through Alwin.

Noah paused a moment. "I'm not as bad as you think. You don't know everything that's going on."

Jesse couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Well, d'uh! Of course I don't know everything that's going on! But I don't want to hear it from you."

"Oh for –" Noah ground his jaw. "Well, I'm gonna tell you anyhow, you don't have to listen."

"Thanks to your friends, I can't exactly escape now, can I?" He waved towards the device on the back of his neck.

Noah didn't react to that comment, instead barrelling on with what he clearly wanted to get off his chest. "It was for your mother, you know."

"What?" Jesse couldn't believe this. What was Noah playing at this time?

"No, it's true," Noah blinked at him owlishly from behind the hastily repaired glasses that Jesse wasn't entirely convinced his father actually needed. Maybe protective camouflage? But from whom? "She was in the earlier stages of erm, whassitcalled," Noah continued. "Uh, Bralinger's Disease. Congenital and debilitating."

Jesse turned away; he didn't want to hear what was so clearly a fantasy aimed at garnering his sympathy.

"I couldn't bear to see her degenerate. You know how vibrant she was, how much she enjoyed life. She tried throwing cash at it, but even with her family's backing there was no cure that money could buy. So she tried to ignore it. But it was starting to show; a few seconds of blanking out here, hands shaking so badly she dropped whatever she was holding there. I had some contacts back then, and they put me in touch with Horatio. That's the codename for the tall guy, one who looks like he needs a good meal."

Jesse glanced at Noah from the corner of his eye, and found the older man was looking at him with such pleading, it was almost impossible for him to steel his heart against it.

"Horatio, he was… well, he looked a little different back then. Quite a lot different actually. Anyway, he was a rising star in the CIB, rapidly building his own empire. Everything he's ever done has been in the name of the government, but a good deal of what he's done as gone to line his own pockets, so they say. Anyhow, he offered me a chance to get help for your mother."

And there was that look again, Jesse thought, the one that said 'please believe me', that he'd come to learn meant that he was suckering you right before he delivered the smack in the face. If he was honest with himself, he really didn't know how much, if any, of what Noah was telling him was the truth, but listening couldn't hurt, might even help get him through whatever the next twenty four hours would bring. So he kept his face carefully neutral, and let Noah carry on a little uncertainly with his tale.

"Anyway, Horatio put me in touch with Genomex who said that while they couldn't cure her, they could stop its progression any further with some gene therapy and a fair amount of cash. But there was a problem, she was pregnant."

Again, with that look, but Jesse refused to rise to the bait.

"That was you, Jesse," Noah pushed and Jesse couldn't help mutter 'Yeah, right,' under his breath. Lowering his gaze to the floor, Noah continued. "They did a lot of tests, but in the end, they said that you had the gene for Bralinger's as well, and that they couldn't treat either of you until after you were born. Of course Bralinger's lies dormant for years, but it's swift, a matter of weeks, maybe months at most, and you weren't due for another seven months. They wanted to abort you, but your mother wouldn't let them."

Noah was still looking down and it occurred to Jesse that Noah had said his mother wouldn't, not the both of them, and that his father was on a bit of a guilt trip, or denial or something. If he chose to believe him, of course.

"But, there was a way to save you both. It was unethical, immoral, and illegal, but Horatio offered me a way to bypass the red tape and objections and try it anyway. Jesse, look at me, please."

Reluctantly, Jesse did as asked and saw a sincerity in his father's face that gave him no doubt over his next words. "Jesse, I did love your mother, very much. And I would have done anything to keep her alive. So I struck a bargain with the devil. Horatio made the program happen that saved you and your mother's lives, and I promised to return his favour at a time of his choosing. Which just happens to be now."

There was a long silence other than the crashing of the truck going over what felt like heavily ploughed fields and ditches. If even half of what Noah had said was true, there were so many questions to be asked.

"What was the penalty Horatio mentioned?"

Noah looked flustered for second, but the truck lurched to a stop and he stuck his head out back. "Oh, look we've arrived!" he said brightly, and jumped off the back, the fairytale apparently forgotten, and Jesse was left to trail behind as Collier gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.

Brennan looked once more at the contents of another letter he'd received the previous afternoon. He knew full well who the ticking parcel was from and was certain it would be safe. After all, Anya would never hurt him, or so her letter claimed.

What did worry him was the photo that had been included in the letter. It was a picture of him with Emma and Shalimar in the park near the fountain that must have been taken the day before, when they were looking for any evidence of Jesse. They hadn't told Adam that was what they were doing, but he'd known anyhow and berated them gently on their return.

But the picture was of the three of them together, of Emma holding his hand as she told him to get over the guilt, and Shalimar embracing both in that touchy feely way she had. And thick red marker pen had been used to scribble out both of the young women. It never occurred to him to tell anyone else at that point; it was no one else's problem but his own to deal with.

The terrain was hilly, even mountainous, and the landscape, even through infra-red binoculars, was clearly a carpet of forestland and treacherously muddy trails. If he'd had to guess, Jesse thought that they were probably in one of the central or South American countries. He didn't think the flight time had been long enough to have taken them over the Pacific, the polar cap or even the Atlantic, but as Collier had said at the time, you can't really know unless you know how fast the craft is going, and only close mouthed Sharford had any hope of estimating that.

Having left them with strict instructions to be back at this spot in exactly twenty fours hours for their only extraction opportunity should they fail, the truck chugged its way back the down the slippery rutted track. Collier dug her Palm Pilot out and issued instructions on where they were headed. They would travel the first few miles together, but as they approached detection range they would stop to eat and confirm orders before splitting up into their buddy pairs and taking different routes to end up at a specified rendezvous point. As Collier marked the route they would be taking on their map before passing the Palm Pilot to the other two teams, Jesse could see that the rendezvous point was part way up a mountain.

When they were oriented, Noah briefed them on the little they needed to know before getting there. That given the electronic security systems the guards were very few, but had orders to shoot to kill. Naturally, the target was not only a top-secret military installation, but it was also inside the mountain, which gave Jesse a surreal case of déjà vu.

Having been dropped off just before dawn, it was well into a hot and humid mid-morning before they stopped for a brunch made up of cold vacuum packed rations. Noah and Cobb had the shortest route with Cobb citing an old war wound as cause for slowing them up, even though they all knew that he was as fit as they came and it Noah who was not quite at his peak.

Sharford and Alwin volunteered to take the longest route, being the fittest, at which both Jesse and Collier objected.

"You two thugs may be stronger," Collier said, indignantly, "but that does not make you fitter."

"You wanna take it? Fine by me," said Alwin flatly. "I'll have time to take a nap before you get there."

Jesse couldn't tell if the man was joking or not as. in direct contrast to Shalimar, this feral had so little emotion that he wondered if Alwin'd had it spliced out of his DNA.

Collier, however, roared with laughter. "Now you know damned well I'd take you up on that, but with a pleb in tow, I gotta take the middle road."

"Excuse me?" Jesse's face was disbelieving, but before he could say anything more Collier cut him short.

"I know, I know. I sneaked a peek in the changing rooms," she grinned wolfishly, "and I know you're fit. But this isn't a game and it's my job to protect you. You wanna be a hero, do it on your time, not mine. This isn't the time for pride."

"Okay," Jesse agreed, understanding her logic. "But next time," he grinned, and allowed his sentence to go unfinished.

The three teams split up and Jesse followed his partner into the undergrowth. The going was thick with vegetation, but fortunately mostly low level which meant they made good time. A couple of times Collier had them diving under bushes as paired patrols passed them by, but after a couple of hours they found a good spot for a short breather and some water.

Jesse looked at the woman who right now looked nothing like the stunning blonde who'd chatted up Brennan, with a mud disguise dulling the normally bright locks down to a mid yellowish brown and football streaks across her face.

"Why do you do this?" Jesse asked gesturing at the Uzi slung over her shoulder.

"Because it pays ridiculously well," she said, before swigging from her water canteen.

"The marines?" Jesse asked incredulously. "They pay that well?"

"No," she said, swallowing. "But people like them do." She nodded behind him.

"Like who - ? Uh…" Jesse froze as the cold muzzle of a gun nudged at the join between his neck and shoulder.

"Suggest you get face down on the ground."

Looking around cautiously he found half a dozen soldiers, all with rifles, and remembering what Noah had said about killing on sight he knew he had no choice. So he got face down in the mud, and let them take him.

XXXXX

Sensing a feeling of disquiet coming from Brennan's room, Emma poked her head through the slightly ajar door. "Can I come in?" she asked. Brennan had picked up a parcel the previous afternoon from the post office, and just dumped it in his room without opening it, even though he claimed not to know what it was. So to say that Emma's curiosity was piqued was an understatement.

"Sure," he replied absently as he sat on the floor staring at a ticking Something. From this angle, the Something looked to Emma like an enormous desk tidy. As she walked around to stand by Brennan's side, she too was instantly mesmerised by the Something.

It was an expensive version of one of those trashy coffee/ teamaker/ alarmclock/ radio/ cordless phone things - and in a large picture frame that was built in between the coffee cup and the phone charger was a headshot of the multi-coloured Anya blowing a kiss.

After a few moments of silent staring, Shalimar came to join them. She looked at it and winced, looked at Emma and Brennan and then said, "So, you slept with her, then."

Brennan flushed indignantly. "Hey, she tried to seduce me, you know! And no, I might've walked her home but I didn't sleep with her!"

"Right." Shalimar looked at him sceptically. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"I've already told her I'm not interested. I don't know what else I can do."

"Tell her again?" Emma suggested.

Scratching an itch on his chest, Brennan sighed. "If I have to."

The phone on the contraption started ringing. Not a cordless, but a cell phone, apparently. And it played the theme to 'Love Story'.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Shalimar asked.

"No," Brennan said slowly. "No, I'm not." Shalimar reached over for it, but Brennan knocked her hand away. "I said, not!" he snapped.

"Okay," Shalimar agreed uncertainly. "I guess it's her."

"You guess right," Brennan replied as the cell continued to ring.

"So, answer it and tell her it's over." prompted Emma.

"It never even started," Brennan sighed, "and I answered the last two times but all she did was go into this long dirty… stuff." Here he flushed again. "And I couldn't get a word in edgeways.

"Oh, answer it before that tone drives me insane!" Shalimar demanded as the Love Story continued on and on.

Looking as if he were about to make the ultimate sacrifice, Brennan delicately picked up the cell and held it a couple of inches away from his ear. Emma didn't need Shalimar's enhanced hearing to pick up the diatribe on the other end.

"Uh, I was, uh, in the little boys room, I –" Brennan gave up as the cell chattered away, the tone suddenly switching from angry to seductive. "Hey, hey, Anya? Listen, listen to me, yes, yeah, that sounds good, of course it does. Anya? Listen we have to talk, yes, I know, no I won't, I promise, but hey, what about a drink. Uh, no, I was think somewhere a bit more, uh, public actually, well, what about Starbucks. No? Okay, well, yeah, Maloney's it is then. Three o'clock. No, no, please I don't want to hear right now, I have to go, no, I don't have another woman, I just have to go, I'll see you later, I'm sure it is very nice, I have to go, bye!"

Very carefully, Brennan put the phone down. Then equally carefully, he aimed a finger and fried the entire thing.

"Now that wasn't very nice," Emma commented, while Brennan just shuddered.

XXXXX

Blindfolded, Jesse couldn't really be sure exactly which direction he was taken in but, with his hands tied behind his back, he was pretty certain that he was adding significantly to the superficial scratches from twigs and undergrowth he couldn't avoid. His captors didn't speak, other than the odd monosyllabic order, and with a gag in place Jesse wasn't in a position to try and strike up conversation.

Eventually, though, they arrived at their destination, and Jesse was shoved into a chair and tied down at wrist, waist and ankle. Somewhere behind and to his right, Collier was talking with a man. The voice was unfamiliar, and the accent heavy.

"So what is this thing, this device? Explain it to me, please."

"A sub-dermal governor," Collier informed him. "He has a genetic disorder that empowers him to do odd things like kill people with a look."

"Ah, yes, I have heard of this. New mutants, yes? Monsters, they are called I believe."

"Yeah," agreed Collier casually, and Jesse guessed that she wasn't giving up her own secret too easily. "And the device keeps them human, and you safe." Great, she'd neatly ensured that his captors would not be tricked into releasing him.

"Not you?"

Collier laughed harshly. "Gimme the cash and I'm outta here. Don't worry about the others, they'll be forced to give up the mission when me and the monster don't show up."

The man barked out an order and Jesse guessed that Collier left with one of the guards before the door shut.

Footsteps, then hands at the nape of his neck undoing his gag. His mouth was dry as sand as he ran his tongue around it. "What's going on?" he asked. "Who are you?"

"Easy questions to answer, my friend. And I will do in a moment. First, introductions. I do not require your name, rank and serial number, for I already have them from your colleague. You are a civilian consultant co-opted for this assignment and you go by the name Jesse Kilmartin. Correct?"

"Isn't the first rule of interrogation something to do with not confirming anything but your name rank and serial number? Because you got those parts right."

The man snorted. "My name is Captain Luis de Marguilera, and everything that happens to you here is decreed by myself. From whether you are permitted to use the latrine to whether you leave here alive."

"Thanks," said Jesse, wishing the man would hurry up and tell him what this was all about. "I'll be sure to leave a tip."

"This is the first and last conversation we will have man to man, Mr Kilmartin," the Captain warned. "You would be wise to take it seriously."

Jesse pursed his lips but kept quiet for the moment. There was no benefit in antagonising the man at this point in time.

"I don't require any information from you, we already know what we need. Your colleague was most helpful for the right price. However, what I do require is a taped confession from your good self. I need for you to confirm that you were sent here by your government to steal our technology, and I need you to give enough detail that people will know that the tape is not fraudulent."

"You want me to do what? But I don't know any detail. I was kidnapped and sent here by some guy, I don't know…" Jesse figured he was safe from inadvertently betraying anyone, since the limited amount he did know de Marguilera wouldn't be interested in. "I don't know enough to validate anything. And you know what? Even if I did, I wouldn't 'fess up to my own birthday for you on tape."

"Ah. I was afraid of that, Mr Kilmartin. I am a civilised man, so I propose to give you a little help in confessing. I understand that some people are resistant, however, and I suggest you pray to whatever god you believe in that you are not."

The door scraped open again and another pair of footsteps entered along with a metallic clattering. A trolley, Jesse guessed, and a moment later he realised that it was probably a surgical trolley as his left inner elbow was prepared by cold hands to receive the first of several injections.

XXXXX

Brennan checked out his surroundings with a cool professional ease, noting that while the café was in a quiet area, it was only half a street from the main thoroughfare. He mentally kicked himself for thinking of this meeting as an encounter with a life-threatening enemy; he was only seeing an obsessive little girl with the intention of telling her once and for all just to fuck off out of his life. In the nicest possible way, of course.

The rainbow hair would have stood out in a crowd but, as the sole occupant of the tables outside the café, he couldn't have missed her anyway. "Hi," he said, as he took the only other chair at the table. Her smile was bright and certainly she was a good-looking young woman, although the intensity with which her blue eyes - made electric with what had to be contact lenses - looked at him was pretty unnerving. He'd taken that intensity as being self-confidence and fierce independence, yet with a slightly doll like quality that made her seem just a little vulnerable.

Now, however, she just looked psychotic. He told himself that she'd just creeped him out, that she was just one of those women who could get a little too carried away if you weren't firm with them. But no reason not to be nice, as she hadn't actually done anything to deserve anything more radical than a clear Dear Jane conversation. "I got you coffee," she said, pushing the steaming cup across the table, "just how you like it."

"You remembered," Brennan said, but didn't touch it. "Anya, we have to talk."

The young women looked down into her own cup. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" she said, softly.

Brennan shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I tried to tell you before."

Anya smiled sadly and looked up again. "I know. I just figured if we met again you might change your mind. Too intense, huh?"

Brennan nodded, feeling that the girl was obviously insecure in herself and that it would be adding insult to injury to try and either justify himself or take on meaningless blame. Her eyelids fluttered as she fought to hold back tears and Brennan sighed inwardly. There was always one, once in a while, that thought one night meant forever. "Hey, can I call someone for you?"

She shook her head with a sniffle. "No, um," she swallowed hard. "Um, would you mind staying with me for a while," she asked, brushing at her cheeks as one tear escaped, quickly followed by another. "Just, um, until?" She waved ineffectually and gulped.

While one part of him was figuring out how to escape, the other part of him grabbed some wipes from another table and handed them to her. "Sure," he said, "but only if you let me pick up the tab." 'Never be beholden to a girl you're dumping' was a maxim he'd always lived by and it usually worked well for him.

"Thank you," she sniffed as she blew her nose on the wipes. Since he was now paying, Brennan passed the next few moments of hiccupping silence sipping at his coffee. He wasn't really aware of anything wrong, didn't even remember sliding off the seat, but he was suddenly and helplessly aware of being unable to feel anything. He had a close up and personal view of dried gum on the sidewalk, could hear Anya crying out for help, telling someone that he'd collapsed from insulin deficiency, that she just needed to get him home for his injections. Then he was being manhandled into a taxi, and Anya was whispering in his ear.

"You're mine, Brennan, and I'll keep you. Even if I have to kill you to do it."

XXXXX

Oh, god but he felt so totally weird. They'd stopped shoving stuff in Jesse's veins and let him alone for a while, but with his concept of time so completely out of kilter it could have been minutes or months. The walls were undulating and the floor kept disappearing while the ceiling kept spinning off into space, which was kinda odd because he still had the blindfold on, and it all made him feel very seasick.

His left arm wouldn't stop twitching and, while he could feel each molecule of air brush the hair follicles on his arms and face, he'd lost all communication with his neck, elbows and knees. The drugs had worked, of course, and his brain been so completely embarrassed at how much his mouth was talking that he'd collapsed into hysterical giggles several times, forcing them to slap him or douse him with cold water.

There was a thought, and another one. His brain really didn't have a lot to say about anything. He'd used all his will power to resist the drugs at the beginning, but then willpower divided up and rolled away and he tried to catch it all but it kept splitting up and running away like frightened mercury. Sometimes he remembered that he needed to find it, but then he'd get distracted by trying to find a thought, a memory, or maybe his feet.

And it really was the funniest thing of all, that although he knew that the drugs had done their job, Captain Marjoram thought they'd failed.

XXXXX

Emma stood in the doorway to the lab, watching Shalimar dozing over the communications console. "Shal?" she called, not wanting to get too close to her in case she startled her. A Shalimar that was startled awake had been known to give someone a concussion before. As the blonde muttered something unintelligible, Emma called her name again, loudly this time, and was both amused and gratified to see Shalimar jump awake.

"Whazza-?" Shalimar looked at the console in dismay. "No! I fell asleep! I might have missed a call! Oh god, what if I missed Jesse?"

"Shalimar, calm down, you didn't miss anything." Adam materialised from the stock cupboard with some cables. "I've been monitoring too, and don't forget the comms are hooked up to the internal system. You can monitor from your bed, you know."

"I can't believe I fell asleep!" Shalimar rubbed her shadowed eyes.

"I can," Emma told her. "You've barely slept the last few days. But I think we may have a bigger problem than that."

"What?" Shalimar was incredulous. "What could be more important than Jesse?"

"We can't do anything but wait for him," Emma said carefully, knowing how touchy Shalimar could be over those she perceived as her family. She didn't want for either of them to have to suffer through the sense of guilt and worry that the feral would have if she thought she was choosing between family members. "Right now, I believe that Brennan could be in trouble."

"Brennan?" Emma could almost feel the gear change in Shalimar's emotions as immediate concern and the need to do something transferred from Jesse to Brennan, the impossible pushed back temporarily in favour of the doable. "What's he done?"

"You know that girl he, uh, didn't sleep with?"

"The one that's been pestering him?" Shalimar asked.

"That would be the one," Emma said stiffly.

"You don't believe him, do you?" Shalimar queried, slightly puzzled.

Emma shrugged. "I just think he should be a bit more careful how he treats women, that's all."

"When it comes to women, Brennan is one of the most gentlemanly men I know," Shalimar told her. "I take it you haven't 'read' him if you don't know that. Never lets a girl pay for anything, and always leaves them feeling like a million dollars."

"And you would know this because?" Emma shook herself slightly. "I'm sorry, that's your business. Look, I think he was a little on edge about meeting with her, so he said he'd call in every half hour. It was sort of informal, so I may have left it too long already, but he's just missed two check-ins. And his comm's switched off. I think he'd have said if it was going to be, uh, inconvenient to call."

"Well, why don't I monitor things here, while you go check on Brennan?" Adam suggested and, at Shalimar's beseeching look, added, "I'll let you know the minute I hear anything, okay?"

"I have a son your age," the Captain said softly. "I love him very much. I did not want to hurt you, but I love my country and her people more. What you and your people were trying to do was wrong, and all I am trying to do is ensure that your government doesn't think it can get away with it. I want for my country and her people to be recognised in their own right and not as the slave nation it currently is. We don't want to rule the world or anyone else, just be allowed to… to be. You are just one small step on the road to achieving that."

XXXXX

Jesse's mind was only just starting to come back together, enough that short strings of rational thought could be cobbled together. There seemed to be some sense in what the Captain was saying, but it didn't really matter. If he didn't believe that the drugs had worked then, given that he knew nothing, nothing Jesse said now would make the Captain believe him.

"Please, do not make me hurt you." The Captain sounded so absolutely sincere, that Jesse believed him. But what could he do?

A short sharp scraping sound and the smell of sulphur announced a cigarette being lit. "I think I need to make a small demonstration that I am serious my friend," the Captain said, and there was a genuine sadness in his voice. A shocked yelp escaped Jesse almost before he realised it when the cigarette made contact with the back of his hand, the pain stabbing through to his palm.

"No?" asked the Captain. "Then my best men will look after you. When you wish to speak with me again, you only have to ask. Adios."

"No, wait!" Jesse rasped, surprised by how worn his throat was as he clenched and unclenched his abused hand.

"Yes?" asked the Captain.

There was a long silence before Jesse slumped back in his chair. "Nothing."

XXXXX

Brennan came back to himself slowly, in the end just a dull headache behind his eyes the only residue of the Mickey Finn she'd slipped him.

It was very surreal.

Nice apartment, view overlooking the docks.

He was reclining in an armchair, the kind that lets you lie down when you pushed a lever.

TV was on, a football game playing, the screen placed conveniently so he could see it without straining from where he lay.

A table on the other side with an open can of beer, a bucket of popcorn and a short note explaining that she'd gone to get dinner. It began My Darling, and ended with Your Devoted Anya.

He suddenly felt nauseous.

His coat was hung neatly up on the back of the door, his boots to the side. On his feet were a pair of slippers that had to have belonged to someone's great-grandfather.

Nausea turned to ill. But he'd choke if he was.

Because several reels of packing tape had been used to tape him to the chair.

Brennan wondered how long Anya would be.

He needed to piss.

And he needed to kick the TV in.

The football game was on video. The tape had rewound for the second time, launching into its third replay.

He was almost looking forward to seeing Anya for the relief.

XXXXX

Shivering against cold stone, Jesse felt hopeless and abandoned. And that felt worse than anything physical that the Captain's men had done, were doing to him. He wore nothing but the ropes about his wrists, his blindfold and a pair of rough shorts. He had actually been naked until the Captain, against his men's advice, had ordered that the prisoner's modesty be kept intact. Too late for that, and too late for Jesse to notice the compassion behind the order.

He'd lost his name too. The Captain always called him 'the prisoner' and his men used that too, or worse.

The only sense of time he had now was the stubble lengthening on his face. Bread and water was fed to him at irregular intervals, and even the cold buckets of water were sporadic. He'd surprised himself at how high his pain threshold was. Perhaps, because of the pain he endured when pushing the limits of his powers, it had built up. The first beating had been the worst, each blow with fist or belt shocking in the extreme, far worse than any he'd had fighting Ekhart's people. More brutal somehow. But as his body settled into one massive intolerable ache, he became inured against the blows, barely feeling them over the constant fire he was living with.

It was the psychological aspect that he was finding it increasingly hard to bear. The loneliness and inability to think straight. He was held captive on all levels; physically he was restrained, the pain-coping mechanism distancing him from his body yet not allowing his mind to escape elsewhere. And then the chains that bound his powers, which hurt as much as the leather that had bitten deep into his wrists.

And there was no one coming to get him out.

Those who might have wanted to didn't know, and those that knew didn't want to.

He was completely on his own and completely alone.

XXXXX

When the door to the apartment finally opened, Brennan was relieved. Finally, a chance to talk his way out of the situation.

"Hey, uh, any chance of letting me go to the, uh, you know, little boys room?" he asked. Carrying bags into the kitchen area, Anya completely ignored him.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again. "Sweetheart, I really need you over here." Almost faster than thought, she was by his side, face expectantly waiting to bloom with joy.

"Really?" she asked, "What exactly do you need me for?"

"I uh…" He looked into her eyes then and saw properly for the first time that there really wasn't even the tiniest spark of sanity there.

"Liar!" she screamed, rage twisted her features into cruelty. She ran to the kitchen and sobbed loudly for some time before returning with a carving knife. "I'm sorry, Brennan," she said with a sweet little smile, "but I can't cope with your lying deceitful ways. I've come to realize that you're right, it could never work between us, because I'm too good for you."

Brennan nodded his agreement. Whatever rationalization worked for her, worked for him just as well. Only he wasn't too certain whether the knife was intended to cut him or the tape. She leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head away. "Not even a last one?" she asked sadly.

"It wouldn't be fair on either of us," Brennan told her, and she screamed, right in his face, making him jump violently before bringing the knife down.

Hearing Brennan's shout of denial, Shalimar kicked the door down. It hadn't been too hard to find out where the rainbow haired girl lived, as her colouring hardly invited anonymity. It had simply been a matter of legwork.

Taking in the scene before them, Shalimar pounced to disarm the screaming girl while Emma sent a short psionic blast to stun her.

Breathing heavily from his mummification, Brennan gulped and managed, "Thanks, guys." The slashes made were mostly the superficial hit and miss of hysteria, the tape sliced through in places, some deep enough to leave long thin scratches, but none deep enough to cause major injury.

While Emma ensured that Anya was secured, Shalimar cut and peeled the tape away, wincing as arm hairs were ripped out. "Some people pay good money for this, you know."

But still it was clear that Brennan was in some shock as, normally not stuck for words, he didn't seem to know what to say. With the retrieval of his jacket and boots, however, he seemed to find it easier to return to his usual self. "So, uh," he cleared his throat and indicated the door.

"What about her?" Emma asked.

"Leave her right here. I am having absolutely nothing more to do with psycho-bitch. Can we go now?"

Emma seemed little reluctant to leave, so Shalimar plucked at her sleeve. "She's a big girl, Emma, and she's lucky she isn't being charged for kidnapping and assault."

"I know," Emma sighed, "but she's in so much pain."

"Not our problem," Shalimar said. Then, "Look, Adam has some contacts who could probably help her. We'll have him call someone, okay? Right now we have someone more important here who needs us."

"Actually," Emma said dryly, "I don't think Brennan is having that much of a problem. He just wants to go home."

"I know," Shalimar said simply, and Emma looked at her a moment, then followed.

Emma burst into Adam's lab. "Adam, we need a favour!" And pulled up as she the tense atmosphere hit her like a force ten gale. The man she vaguely recognised as General Sperling was on the big screen, solemn as he imparted his news, and Adam's face was hard as granite.

"I'm sorry, Adam," the man on the screen was saying. "They missed extraction point alpha seventy-two hours ago and were no show for points beta and gamma, the last one due three hours ago. You know what that means."

"You're quite sure?"

"There's nothing I can be sure about. One of the group turned up dead in a river, hardly recognisable after the piranha had their fill. Not your boy, wrong gender for that, but one of his team."

"You know that I have resources, if you point me in the right direction?"

"I can't even tell you what continent." Sperling paused. "I'm sorry to have to give you such bad news, but I have to run. I have to be at seventy one west in thirty six minutes and I'm already late. My condolences."

"What was that about?" Shalimar asked as she came in with Brennan hard on her heels. From the tightly reined anxiety that was emanating from the feral, Emma knew she had to have heard probably as much as she had.

Adam took a deep breath and faced them square on. "As far as the Pentagon is concerned, the assignment they never knew about has been terminated with prejudice. As of three hours ago, Jesse is missing in action."

"And they won't tell us where." An already wound up Brennan slammed a fist into the door with enough force to split his knuckles. "This sucks Adam, we have to be able to do something! What about hacking into the Pentagon's mainframe? Or your friend there, maybe we could get a little of that classified detail from him in person."

"I'm with Brennan," Shalimar said, eyes blazing. "You should never have let him go off like that! Never trust any outsiders!"

"Especially the government," Brennan added vehemently..

"And you have no right sounding so pissed about it!" Shalimar rounded on Brennan. "If you hadn't been thinking with your dick, they wouldn't have got Jesse in the first place!"

"Oh come on, Sha – " Brennan began to retaliate.

"Brennan, Shalimar, enough!" Adam snapped, his demeanour on the surface of it tense but in control, yet his anxiety was running just as high as Shalimar and Brennan's. Emma revelled in the sense of complete control she had, something she'd had to fight most of her life for one way or the other. But since coming to Sanctuary, she'd found herself in more ways then she would have believed possible, to the extent that she found herself occasionally toying with the idea that maybe, one day, she would be the one leading the team.

Adam called up a globe on one of the computers. "I think Sperling was trying to give me a clue," he said. "Seventy one degrees west and thirty six minutes. That's a longitude that goes straight down the American continent. So what else?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Piranhas," suggested Emma helpfully.

"Right, rivers and Piranhas. So, Central or South America." Adam shook his head. "No, there are still thousands of square miles, we can't possible search it all." He lowered his head into hands. "And besides, we have to face it, we'd probably be looking for a corpse."

"No," Shalimar said. "I won't believe that. If Jesse were dead, I'd know, I'm sure of it."

"Shalimar," warned Emma, "you can't know for sure. I don't want to believe it either, but don't-"

"No, you don't understand!" Shalimar's quick temper was rapidly reaching explosive proportions. "Since our powers mutated, I've kind of, kind of bonded with each of you. And I know that if any one of you died, I would know about it. I'm going to take the Helix and you can't stop me."

"Emma, Brennan," Adam began.

"Already on it," Brennan said, turning to follow Shalimar.

"I was going to say, I'll join you," said Adam. "Shalimar's right, we can't stop her, and quite frankly, I don't want to. At the very worst, I need to be able to say we tried our best."

"More than our best," smiled Emma as they jogged towards the hanger.

XXXXX

Shadowed hallucinations accompanied a pounding headache as Jesse struggled to breathe properly. His nose was blocked, probably by blood at least, if it wasn't actually broken, and the violently compulsive shivering made his chest tight and breathing, therefore, necessarily shallow.

With only hearing left to try and decipher the world around him, he was getting pretty good at being able to tell who was coming and going. Eventually, his wandering attention was focused by an unfamiliar clattering noise and shots being fired outside somewhere.

The door opened to running footsteps, and there was a whispered, 'Shit!' followed by a low murmur from a separate voice.

And then hands were touching him.

"Get him untied!" To his fevered mind, it almost sounded like Noah. Or maybe Adam had a cold.

"No, we wait until we have time to do it properly."

And then he was lifted up and over rough cloth covering hard edges. Someone's shoulders he guessed, and he couldn't help but cry out as deeply bruised abdominals took his full weight. The movement of his carrier was so disjointed and painful to him that he was more than happy to pass out.

Bright, was the first thing that Jesse came round to. Everything was bright and indistinct and the light stabbed into his eyeballs, making him groan.

"Wh- what, Cobb, what's wrong with him?" a familiar voice, definitely Noah, asked.

Another voice, Cobb's. he realised, professional and efficient, as were the hands running gently but firmly over his aches and pains. "He'll be a little light sensitive for a while, but he's okay."

"Okay? He doesn't look okay, he's been tortured for crying out loud!"

Jesse rubbed at his eyes, wincing as his abused wrists and shoulders protested loudly, the freedom of movement a welcome if painful experience.

"No, he hasn't, not really," Cobb contradicted. "He's been beaten up pretty thoroughly, a handful of small burns, and looks like someone started skinning his ribs at the back with a scalpel. Drugs of course, but…" Cobb paused a moment. "There are signs that a professional interrogator was present, but in the end they resorted to violence. I know he's your son, but you know as well as I do that, if he'd been tortured, he'd have been dead days ago."

"I know," Noah sighed. "How soon do you think he can move?"

Jesse wanted to tell them to stop talking about him and start talking to him, but dehydration and vocal abuse left his throat swollen and voice a bare whisper.

"I said he's okay; doesn't mean he can run cross country," Cobb admonished. "When he wakes up properly we'll start moving, but we'll have to take it easy if we're all going to get out of this place alive."

"Yeah, well, it's not that simple is it? We still have to finish the mission, don't we?" Inexplicably, Noah sounded incredibly bitter.

"True," Cobb's tone was actually regretful, "but you can't hold that against me."

"Why not? You're the doctor here."

"Medic. I'm a medic, and I have my orders. Horatio is not someone I'd want to cross." Cobb paused, and Jess squinted at him. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Big truck," Jesse managed weakly, and Cobb laughed before offering him a canteen of water, which he sipped from slowly and gratefully.

As he took in the water, and the symptoms of dehydration started to dissipate, the individual hurts began to make themselves known leaving Jesse wishing for the numbing blanket of all-encompassing pain again. He closed his eyes again and curled in on himself, biting back the groans as his injuries each cried out for attention, burns and cuts stinging while deep bruising throbbed in time to his heartbeat.

And the constant shivering that locked his abused stomach muscles rigid.

"It's okay," Cobb's voice was soothing as he covered Jesse with a blanket and rubbed at his extremities. "We'll get you through the shock, see how bad you are in a few hours and then I'll give you something for the pain. It might be hard to believe right now, but you're lucky. I don't think anything's broken."

With wave upon wave of agony washing over him as circulation was restored to parts he hadn't realized he'd lost, he could only think that Cobb had to be the worst liar on the planet.

XXXXX

"We'll have to call it a day," Adam shook his head in defeat.

"No!" Predictably, Shalimar was quick to voice her objections, but Adam was ready for her.

"Yes," he countered. "We all need sleep, and more than that, the Helix needs refuelling. We can be back here tomorrow."

There was no response from the other three, but the atmosphere could have been cut with a knife.

XXXXX

The rain that misted down the following morning was fine, warm and saturated everything. Rivulets ran down ears, noses and necks, tickling, and Jesse couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably as tiny balloons of water filled and dropped endlessly from various features.

He knew that the morphine was having a peculiar effect on him, even though Cobb had told him it was just a very light dose, enough to take the edge off while they had to move. But then again, he'd always been less than tolerant to any drug, not to mention the unknown drugs he'd been given in captivity. He was virtually being carried by either Sharford or Alwin and wondered where Collier had gone.

Time was still playing tricks the same as the pain he wasn't quite feeling, so Jesse had no real idea how long it was taking them to get wherever they were going, but he hoped they got there soon. Because right now, he just wanted to crawl into his bed and stay there until the next Big Bang.

He didn't remember them stopping as such, just knew that one moment he was struggling to put one foot in front of the other, and the next he was wrapped in blankets at the foot of a tree with a self heating can of coffee in his hand.

Coincidentally, all his aches and pains started crying for attention, the cuts and burns bringing unwilling tears to his eyes. Slowly, he managed to get his head around the throbbing ache that was his entire body, allowing it to become manageable enough for him to concentrate on his surroundings.

"Are you sure he's going to be fit enough?" That had to be Noah, worry clear in his voice. Nice.

"I'm sure," Cobb replied, calm and reassuring as usual. "He's in pain, but it's superficial. All he needs to do is get us inside the mountain and get the target out. Sharford and Alwin can baby-sit."

"Like Collier did?" Noah snapped back. "And look what happened to her!"

"She was a traitor," Cobb snapped. "I don't agree with Alwin's decision to kill her, but she should never have let herself be bought like that."

"And you haven't?" Noah said softly.

"No," Cobb replied sharply. "Listen, I don't agree with Horatio's methods, and to be honest, if Sharford hadn't got the access codes I'd have given you the DP way back. But I've seen some of Horatio's results. And he gets them."

"I know," Noah nodded. "It's just… we have to get that thing."

"I know," Cobb replied. "And if he's anything like as determined as his old man, your boy will do it."

"Oh, he always does his best, and more." Noah laughed softly. "But using his special skills takes a hell of a lot out of him. At least, that's what the Kane files say. And I'm frightened that he'll kill himself trying, or worse, won't be able to help us get the target out at all."

Heart lurching, Jesse's choked on his coffee. "Gotta love those priorities, dad!" he spluttered, and the two men jumped.

"Thought you'd dozed off," Cobb smiled, while Noah muttered, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Obviously," Jesse's mind was a whirl and he didn't know what to think, so he focused on the one thing he was certain about. "So, wanna get this thing," He waved towards the back of his head, "out of me, so I can do the job you brought me here for?"

"Rest up," Cobb said, moving over to do a quick visual inspection. "Alwin has the machine that'll remove it and they'll be back shortly. They're just scouting round. The area we want is just ahead, okay? Then we can get you fixed up and home."

It was not without some guilt that Jesse forced himself to relax as he realized that he trusted Cobb more than he'd ever trust his own father.

XXXXX

"Ack!"

Emma's cry had all heads spinning towards her.

"What's up?" Shalimar was already out of her seat and by Emma's side as the younger woman blinked her huge eyes several times before being able to speak. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes, sure I'm fine," Emma smiled. "I just… it was unexpected, that's all."

"What was?" asked Brennan from the pilot's seat.

"It was Jesse, and it was the same feeling I get when one of you gets freed from a sub-dermal governor. Pain and then freedom."

"Where is he? What's happening? Can you still feel him?" Shalimar's knuckles turned white as she gripped the arm of Emma's seat.

"No," replied the psionic, frowning. "I don't know, I can't feel him anymore, and it was pretty distant. It was just… sudden. That's all."

"Emma. Adam's voice was low and calming. "Do you think you could get some feel for distance or direction? If you concentrate?"

Emma shook her head. "No. No, I'm sorry." Her frown deepened. "There's nothing there. Nothing at all."

Brennan's forehead creased in frown. "So, he must be pretty close if you can feel him now, but didn't feel a governor go in."

Hemming and hawing for a moment, Emma eventually replied, "Not necessarily. Right now I'm pretty opened up which I wasn't before. Add to that the possibility of psionic shielding of some description. I mean, if the girl who took you out was with him, she could have kept him shielded if her power allowed it."

Wincing at the reminder of his distraction, Brennan returned his concentration to piloting the Double Helix.

XXXXX

Saturated, dripping and shivering painfully, Jesse was surrounded by the other four men as they huddled in the narrow crevasse in the mountainside. Sharford had the weakest point in the mountain wall marked out on his Palm Pilot and Jesse was studying it.

"Sure there's no energy barriers in there?" he asked through chattering teeth. "No surprises? Because I'm not kidding when I say that being encased in rock is not a good way to die." He shuddered, but was unsure whether that was more to do with the idea of being entombed than being cold, wet and in pain.

"Nothing but rock," Sharford replied in his deep monotone, and tapped the Pilot. "A geological breakdown, if you need it."

Jesse was impressed to see a complete survey, far more information than he ever usually got. He found himself weighing up the different densities of the materials, the rock types and minerals, something he'd never really considered beyond the obvious.

A couple of feet of porous rock, then around fifteen feet of much denser materials with intermittent thin steel supports on the other side. He realized that all eyes were on him, and tried to weight up which method would be best. Phase the five of them, or phase a tunnel through the mountain. All four would need to be in contact with him if he phased them, and should one lose contact for even a nanosecond… Jesse shuddered. Better to phase a tunnel. It would take more out of him, but he was reasonably confident he could do it. After all, he'd phased the entire Double Helix and its passengers once, hadn't he? And rock was so much more familiar to him than all that metal and plastic and - shuddering again - energy.

"Keep together and keep in contact," he said. Contact was unnecessary, really, but it would keep them in a smaller group and make his job easier.

Leaning against the wall he took a deep breath, wincing as sore ribs protested, then tried again, taking several deep breaths, hyperventilating to get more oxygen into his blood stream before exhaling as hard as he could.

His fingers tingling as his hand and then the wall before him phased away. He walked forward, the molecules of the solid wall pulling apart, separating before him, allowing him passage, recognizing one of their own, yet needing his energy to make the miracle occur. He was aware of the others as a warm pillar of flesh behind him, and fixed his senses on the one at the back so he could keep an intangible area that encompassed them all.

His chest ached with more than just cuts and bruises as his lungs instinctively fought for air, yet it seemed that the rock was pushing him along, helping him, molecules tugging at him, easing his transit, something he never got from artificial materials.

This part always amazed him. It was ironic in a way that his greatest fear was being buried alive, yet his best power involved walking through suffocating walls. But, while his confidence in his own powers was somewhat less than it should be, once he actually phased into anything that nature had built, it was like he was walking amongst sentient beings who wanted to help him, made him feel safe, took what was needed from him to try and help him get through before he had to take breath and die.

As opposed to man made materials that seemed to resent his presence and abilities, that took what they could from him as payment for passage. Or worse, artificial energy of any description that punished him for even daring to contemplate being a part of their world.

For once, though, Jesse thought he may have been a touch overconfident as his starving lungs kicked in a burst of adrenaline that surged up his gut and attempted to force him into panic. There didn't seem to be any end to the rock, and he had no idea how far they had yet to go.

He gritted his teeth in determination, pushing the adrenaline-induced panic away, until he felt a resistance. The familiar resistance of steel that wanted payment, and he knew they were there. Letting the others out ahead, he stepped through, let go and inhaled glorious air, enjoying a brief moment of freedom and silence, where there were no aches and pains, no chaos of thought or emotion, a moment of just being.

But a sudden clattering and a hail of tiny missiles smacking through the air had Jesse ducking and falling to the floor with a sharp cry as rubber knees gave out, the jarring force of hitting the floor re-awakening angry, abused muscles and nerve endings.

The other four - no three, Noah was cowering behind some crates - were moving, jumping and diving, kicking and punching, using their guns as batons as much as fire-weapons, and Jesse thought that he should be helping out. With a groan he pushed himself to his feet, scanning the soldiers' moves, trying to see where he might be needed.

He was slower than he would have liked, but at least massing came easier to him than phasing, which meant that with some smart pit stops, he was pretty much invulnerable throughout. The three soldiers simply accepted him as a shield and used him as much as he could be there for them.

Needing a breath, Jesse waited for Alwin to spring away from behind him then spun behind some crates for a breath.

"Up and around so soon?" came a horribly familiar voice that sent shivers up and down Jesse's spine.

He turned around slowly to find a man sprawled by the wall, half hidden by a fallen cabinet. Jesse didn't need to look closely to see that the man only had minutes left to live – it was obvious from the amount of blood pooling around and the pallor of the his face, the bluing lips.

The man spoke again, his breathing rapid and harsh around the words. "I am pleased that my men did not hurt you so bad."

"Ya think?" Jesse snapped. "You should try being in my skin and saying that.."

The man, Captain de Marguilera, did not look nearly as vicious as Jesse had imagined. In fact, he looked like someone's genial old granddad, with a kindly face and laughter lines deep around his eyes. Jesse wanted to shout and rant at him, beat him up, do something, but the sad, old man dying on the floor gave him no immediate recourse.

The Captain made a gurgling attempt at a chuckle. "No, Mr Kilmartin, it was not so bad, trust me. I could not let them torture someone so much like my own son. But, one thing, please."

"I'm not – "

"Please!" the Captain arched, his face contorted in agony. "Please," he gasped as he relaxed again. "You do not want my country to have this weapon, I understand. It could mean freedom for my people, but you are not of my people. But I beg of you, please do not let your people have it either. If you cannot let us have a chance at freedom, then please, don't destroy any chance we may ever have."

Words of anger on Jesse's lips died as the last breath left the Captain's body, and a white hot flash of anger surged through him. It passed in a second, and all he could think was that not even his enemies could resist dumping on him.

A hand grabbed his arm and spun him towards what looked to be roughly similar to the Double Helix, but with warts on its red gold skin, and five times the size. Noah was inside and gesturing wildly for them to get in, and Jesse supposed that his father had been spending the battle figuring out how to open the door.

He let himself be ushered by Cobb into the machine with Sharford and Alwin pulling up the rear, Alwin in full feral mode in his attempts to defend Sharford who didn't really seem to need it.

Low, barely-there humming indicated the engines were online as they slid into fluid seats that seemed to mould their contours to each individual's shape. The door silently slid shut, the bullets and commotion outside ceasing to exist as the soundproof machine started to move. The only windows were those at the front, and Jesse could see that they were moving forward on a track as Noah gave his seat up to Sharford.

"Jesse," Noah grabbed his attention, "we need you to phase this, through that." He pointed outside, and Jesse could see that the big metal doors through which the track lead remained steadfastly shut.

He'd done this already with the Helix, but that had been smaller. And to a certain extent, with the amount of work he'd done on it, more of a known quantity. But the Helix had taken a hell of a lot out of him, at a time when he'd had a damn sight more to give.

But they were looking at him again, and that door was looming.

Like before, in the end, there was no choice.

And the door was almost upon them. Only one shot at this.

Like before, find some central support, hyperventilate, gather oxygen, exhale completely, concentrate on separating own molecules, spreading the phase out, feeling the edges of the craft, feeling the flesh pillars all encompassed, fighting with compound metals and plastics that wouldn't willingly separate without leaching his failing energy levels, resisting the biting attacks of electricity and fission that fought against him.

Passing through solid, unforgiving steel that, although untouched by Jesse, still registered its displeasure by putting extra drag on the passing craft, exacting its own price.

A slow lurch and they were free, Jesse letting go with gulps of air and a bone deep exhaustion that left him kneeling, arms about his middle, and his forehead resting on the floor as he tried to pull together wits scattered by pain, fatigue and emotional stress.

"We're out!" Noah's voice whooping victory. "Now, give me my payment!"

"Here," Cobb's voice accompanied by rummaging. "Alwin has the codes."

"Sure," Alwin's monotone. "Don't use it all at once." A couple beeps, a small hiss and a sigh from Noah.

Jesse turned his tired head a little to see Noah brandishing a capped syringe from a small security box.

"Don't use it at all just yet," Cobb grabbed Noah's wrist.

"I know, I know," Noah pulled his arm away. "I know what this stuff does, how valuable it is. I'm not going to waste it."

Noah put the syringe away back in the box, but kept hold of it, stroking it like he would the Holy Grail.

Yeah, dad, Jesse thought, I'm dying over here. Should have known, I guess, but nothing anyone does surprises me any more. Nothing.

"Think I'll retire after this one," remarked Alwin.

"Do we know where it's going?" asked Cobb, a little worriedly.

"Do we care?" replied Alwin. "Horatio's gonna make millions. Hell, we're gonna make millions just from our measly cuts."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Sharford said. "With your cut you can go do good in Africa or Korea or wherever it was you wanted to go."

"I know," said Cobb a little bitterly. "Doesn't make it any easier to swallow though. I mean, what if terrorists get their hands on this? We could be condemning our own people."

Alwin chuckled. "Right, like Horatio doesn't have most of them in his back pocket. In any case, he isn't going to sell the thing to anyone who's gonna aim it right back at him. He's ambitious, man. Money and the power he has isn't enough. He wants to be the man in charge, and having some whacko use one of his toys against him just isn't on the agenda."

"But someone's going to suffer," Cobb said.

"Don't think about it," Sharford advised flatly. "I don't."

"You could have opted out," said Noah. "You didn't have to do this."

"No, he couldn't," Alwin immediately contradicted. "It's do or die, literally, for all of us. Do, is really, really good. Die is, well, terminal. And once Horatio sets his sights on you, then do or die are the only options."

So, thought Jesse, when it comes down to it, it seems that Captain La Marguilera was right, although perhaps for the wrong reasons.

No one should have this craft, whatever it may do. It didn't matter what its capabilities were, why it was so special, it belonged to this country, wherever this country was. And if this country couldn't have it, then no one should, least of all a profiteer or his customer.

Standing up was a monumental effort for Jesse, with all his limbs like lead weights with marshmallow muscles. Looking out the front as he grabbed a strut for support, he could see that they were still moving along a track to the foot of a mountain. There was what seemed to be a launch pad of some description directly ahead, and men were still running around outside firing at them - although as they approached the launch pad they started backing off, probably scared of getting caught in whatever passed as the craft's thrusters.

It seemed he wasn't noticed as he slid painfully into one of the seats and began trawling through the terminal there. Fortunately most of what he needed to look at was in English, and the languages of mathematics and programming. There was no convenient self-destruct mechanism, or if there was he couldn't find it. However, the engines were unique, and perhaps that was a part of what made the craft so special. A chemical engine, but two of the chemicals used should never be allowed to meet in the normal design of things.

Jesse grinned to himself as he saw exactly how to make those two chemicals meet. It was like a logic problem, something at which he excelled. Without moving from his seat, he could cause an overload to a circuit there, creating a fire that would melt that junction over there, because the chemical contained in plastic was corrosive to metal, etcetera, etcetera…

"Better belt up… Hey, what are you doing!" Alwin called out, making a move to get out of his seat.

"Oh, he just likes playing with computers," Noah said absently, clutching his case.

"There's no time, get back in your seat," Sharford ordered. "Shit! There's a breach in one of the fuel lines!" Suddenly alarms tore through the cabin. "We're on fire!"

"More than that," smiled Jesse. "Guess we should get out of here before it explodes."

"What did you do?" Alwin's eyes flashed gold as he tore his way out of his seat.

"Not now!" Sharford caught a hold of Alwin. "We can kill the freak later. Let's just get out of here, first." He treated Jesse to a white hot glare before pulling the growling feral with him.

Jesse pulled himself to his feet, wincing in pain and exhaustion, grateful when Cobb and Noah supported him out. Once on the ground they let Jesse move under his own steam, hanging back for him, yet eager to be outside the range of any detonation that might occur.

The explosion when it came was sudden, lifting Jesse off his feet and hurling him into the surrounding fence, trees, sky…

Maybe he phased or massed, but he was running on instinct only as in the space of a split second, with no time to think, he was flying, fire flaming and roaring, overtaking, dragging along screaming clawed metal. Wood ripped to stake-sized splinters flew alongside whiplash wires and long arcs of blood. Chaotic, shattering noise became his whole world, decorated with black speckled red and yellow streaked green-hued sky, distorted faces screaming denial, Noah flying rag-doll high, and parts of Cobb shooting randomly past. Brief shocking glimpse of Sharford impaled high in a struggling tree, Alwin's legs kicking as the rest of him sheared away to nothing by razor sharp shrapnel. Disbelief and horror at the destruction caused by the chemical nightmare he'd brought to life…

… and then it was over.

Shocking silence, lazy spinning, ground and darkness arriving with a sharp, wet thud.

XXXXX

"Adam, I – "

"What, do you sense anything?"

"I –" Emma looked confused for a moment, and shook her head. "No, I, I thought I felt an echo of something wrong, but maybe it was nothing."

"Or maybe it was something," Shalimar said. "Maybe we're headed in the wrong direction, getting further away from where we need to be."

"But we'd be going over old ground," Brennan objected, but at Shalimar's glare quickly changed tack. "I guess I could fly a parallel vector back the way we came so we at least see some new scenery."

"And it's the only lead we have," added Adam. "I can't see how we can ignore it."

In small brand new clearing, so new that the smell of resin from the fallen trees was heavy in the air, two bodies lay entwined in the debris. One, the younger, was motionless, but the older stirred. Both were covered in blood and ashes, almost unrecognisable as human.

There was no one to see, not even a bird or rodent, as the older man shuffled himself around enough to hold the younger man in his arms. To see the tears the older man shed as he cradled the younger man's head, stroking the grimy, sticky hair.

For a long while only a whispered muttering, and harsh sobbing could be heard, even the wind and drizzle having temporarily subsided.

Nothing witnessed the older man pull a small box and a palmtop from his pocket and place them in the younger man's lifeless hands, or the silver ring that glinted in the sunlight as he put it on the younger man's finger.

And perhaps only insects heard the older man's murmured prayers as he crawled into the trees, thanking providence for the special powers his son possessed that had saved his life, and entreating fate to let his son be found in time to save his own.

"Brennan, new course!" Adam suddenly snapped. "I'm inputting now!"

"Got it!" Brennan confirmed, banking the Double Helix slightly to amend their course. "What's up?"

"Jesse's ring has just been activated," Adam said grimly, "but he's not responding." He called Jesse's name a few times to be certain until Shalimar interrupted.

"How far away? How long until we get there?"

"A long way. We've gone way too far South. Even at the Helix's speed, it's going to be not much short of an hour."

"Well, I'll just have to see how fast I can push this baby," Brennan said with determination.

Forty-eight minutes later, the Double Helix was coming to land to one side of the large patch of scorched earth. Debris littered the place, and the ruins of an aluminium track ran away from the area to disappear into the brush a short way up a mountain.

Signs of life were gathered at the far side of the mountain, although none of those had made it around this side. However, cloaking the Helix, they knew that they had to be quick. There was only a single life sign showing up at this side of the mountain, at the edge of the scorched area. And it was attached to a silver ring.

There were no other survivors to be found in the area so, gently and carefully, they put their unconscious comrade on a hard stretcher and loaded him onto the Double Helix, before heading for home.

The soldiers that spent the next twelve hours scouring the area could only find evidence of three bodies, though with the plain black clothing they'd all worn there was no indication of who they had been.

Brennan stared at the Palm Pilot and the box with the syringe. He wasn't really a computer nerd, but he was no slouch and he had to do something while the girls hounded Adam and his doctor pals.

The Pilot and box had been put to the side, but now he had time to study them his thief's eye was impressed with the security on the box. He was uncertain whether even he could have got into it without the codes on the Pilot.

But now things were looking a little tricky. He was trying to read the guff about the drug in the syringe, but it made little sense. Something to do with the halting of genetic disorders, and there was a list of names that had been guinea pigs for it. Interestingly enough, at the top of the list, the first guinea pig, some twenty-five years previously was a Sylvia Kilmartin, and much more recently, just a year or so before, had been Anya Sorensen.

Deep in thought, he wandered towards the medlab, stopping when he saw Emma sitting outside with her head in her hands. "That bad?" he asked uncertainly, and she nodded.

"Jesse's doing fine," she explained. "He lost a lot of blood, broke a few bones and oh, god, he's in a hell of a mess, but he'll live. They've replaced the blood and there's really just such a lot they have to fix up, but mostly its just infection they're worried about."

"So what's so bad?" Brennan asked, sitting beside her as she trembled.

"I hate all this," she said miserably, eyes huge with unshed tears. "There's you and Adam, both trying not to worry. But you're so angry, and Adam's so frustrated. Then there's Shalimar who's all of the above. And then there's Jesse who's in such horrible pain and he's so, so incredibly angry and this," she raised her hands wide apart to demonstrate. "This huge guilt trip he's on. I can't cope with it all, it hurts!"

Brennan stroked her back, as reassuring as he could be. "So," he said, at length, "you wouldn't be wanting to take a little trip with me for an hour or so would you?"

"Taking pity on me?" She gave a watery smile.

"Nah," he replied sheepishly. "I want to talk to Anya, and I need you for protection. She scares me."

XXXXX

Jesse came slowly back to a form of awareness inside a bubble of his own making. Eyes open enough to see, ears to hear, nose to smell and even nerves to feel, but there seemed to be a buffer between all these things and his brain. Very far away, Adam asked how he felt, and Shalimar smiled, and he managed to mumble something, but had to turn away. He was too tired, and they were too alive to deal with right now.

Everything hurt, parts of him he never knew existed hurt, but with that cosy almost-numbness that fools you into thinking that nothing hurts at all. Yet you also know that one tiny muscle twitch will send you into paroxysms of agony.

He could see the machines on the side, the dermal regenerator, skeletal accelerator, sub-dermal dilator as well as the familiar vials of antibiotics and local anaesthetic that told him that most of his injuries would be almost gone by the time he'd had a good night's sleep.

And it was all far less than he deserved.

He no longer wholly trusted Adam; he'd seen too much in recent months to believe that he was quite as altruistic as he liked to pretend. But equally, he didn't believe that Adam had given him over to Horatio easily, or without some duplicity on Horatio's part. The only thing that hurt was that he'd always seen Adam as a father figure, even though he'd only just realised it. But Adam fell somewhat short of the Captain who had loved his own son so much.

Noah - now there was a bad memory he wished he could wipe away. He thought that he should feel something for his father, but strangely there was nothing. Not even hate. Perhaps somewhere in the middle of all that, he'd ceased to think of Noah as anything more than a bad news acquaintance.

But what really scared him were his own actions. Or, not so much what he'd done, as the fact that he'd done it without rancour or remorse. He was actually damned proud of his achievements with his powers. He'd learned a lot, was more confident in what he could do. But when he'd decided to set in motion the destruction of the experimental craft, he'd done it knowing he wouldn't survive. Knowing his own father wouldn't survive. But he'd done it anyway, and thought nothing of the fact that he was committing a heroic suicide. He'd never thought of himself as having a death wish before. But now that he thought about it, maybe he did, maybe he always had.

Lying there while his body was being repaired gave Jesse time to think, and the more he thought, the more things clicked into place and allowed him to realise some truths about himself and those around him.

That Adam was not infallible, that Noah had never been on the pedestal that Jesse had previously thought he'd fallen off, that people didn't come under the banners of 'good' and 'evil', but wandered around lost somewhere in between. That if he set himself no limits then he could do anything, and that if he stopped believing in those around him, then there would be no one to hold him back. A cynical way to look at things, but then again, cynicism was new to Jesse, and when he found something new he always did his best to explore it to its extremes.

"Anya?" Brennan tried the door and it was open.

The rainbow haired girl was curled up by the window, staring lethargically out into middle space. "I don't want you here," she said softly, without looking at them.

"Anya." Brennan walked slowly over to her, and sat on the ledge, within touching distance but never touching, while Emma hovered discreetly in the background. "Anya, I need your help."

"You don't need me," she replied flatly.

Brennan bowed his head as he tried to formulate the words that needed to be said. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry that I can't love you the way you want me to, I really am, but I can't help that. You're very attractive, and…"

"Don't you dare say there's plenty more fish in the sea, or whatever contrite cliché you don't mean!" she spat.

Brennan smiled. "I was going to say you should be having a ball, instead of moping up here. You're barely in your twenties, you have decades to find someone else."

"Hah!" Anya's attempt at laughing was a hitching sob. "And that's where you're wrong! I have months at best. Bralinger's isn't kind, and I just wanted someone to love me and for me love and at the end hold me, so I don't die alone."

Brennan didn't know what to say for a moment, but decided that honesty was the best policy. She certainly needed comfort and, for the short time she had, he thought that maybe he could give it her. "Bralinger's. Anya, did you have treatment for it?"

"Sure," she snorted. "And all that did was bring it on early. I volunteered to test it out, but I was a failure. Nothing new there."

"What is Bralinger's and how do you get it?"

"It's, uh, it kinda eats away at your nervous system. Lies dormant for years, decades sometimes, but once triggered it's slow enough to torture, fast enough that you're not quite sure what hit you." She held up her hands, which were visibly trembling. "That's not nerves," she joked.

"And how do you get it?" Brennan asked, a bad feeling growing inside him.

"Well, you know what they say about your parents will always be the ones to screw you up? All it takes is one of them to have it and the kids are guaranteed."

All of a sudden the notes on the Palm Pilot began to make sense. Whatever Jesse had been through, it had to have been in order to get a cure for the disease that was lying dormant inside him. He needed the contents of that syringe.

"Anya," Brennan leapt to his feet, "we have a cure, they've refined it, you can come with us and…"

"No!" Anya stood and faced him directly, a curiously calm serenity about her. "No, I can't go through that again. You go on. I have plans."

Brennan cupped her face and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be back."

Anya waited, until they'd gone before whispering after him, "But I won't be here."

Jesse leaned over the balcony railing above the garden, unable to find any kind of peace in the tranquil surroundings. It was a given that Shalimar would find him there. She didn't say anything for a while, but he found that her warmth melted the cold darkness inside him a little.

He was still convalescing, first from his injuries and then the cure for the disease he hadn't known he had, a cure which had been almost as bad as the disease by all accounts, just a little less permanent.

"It won't be long before you'll be back out there, fighting the good fight," Shalimar said eventually, looking for a conversation starter.

"Who says it's good?" Jesse asked. "Adam? How do we know he's right?"

Shalimar pulled away a little, clearly concerned. "Jesse, I know you've been through hell, that you must be pretty angry right now, but give it a little time and it'll all turn out in the end, trust me."

Now it was Jesse who pulled sharply away. "Shalimar." His face was determined and honest as ever, but with a hardened edge that frightened her a little. "I love you more than you can know, all of you. And I'd do anything for any of you. But don't ever ask me to trust. Ever."

And as she watched him limp away, it was Brennan who was there to offer her some small comfort. "He'll come round, give him time. He's just hurting."

She shivered as she considered. "No," she sighed eventually. "He thinks he's found the way to stop the hurt. It's up to us to prove him wrong. And that really is going to take time."

Horatio stared down the bedraggled man standing defiantly before him. "I should kill you," he said softly.

"So kill me," Noah replied. "It's not like it would be any great loss." Only a minor tremble gave away his fear that Horatio would take him up on it.

"You do put yourself down, don't you?" Horatio remarked. "You have cost me so much, yet you are far more valuable alive, if only I had realised it sooner."

"So, what happens now?"

Horatio smiled, and shivers crawled down Noah's spine. "You'd do much to keep your son safe, wouldn't you?"

"No, you can't do that again! You can't!"

"What, restart the Bralinger's? How I wish I could - it's such an effective motivator for you."

Noah's sigh of relief was audible.

"But there are other methods of motivation," Horatio continued. "I have the power to keep him safe, give him a fairy godfather, if you will, and he need never know."

"Or have the fairy assassin do nasty things, I bet," Noah scowled.

"Well, now that you come to mention it…"

"There is no choice, and you know it," Noah muttered, and Horatio chuckled soundlessly.

"Ah, but you will be amply rewarded, Mr Kilmartin, never fear. And money is something as close to your heart as your son, is it not? Then I would think this is a win-win situation, wouldn't you?"

And as the thugs took away his handcuffs, Noah felt the noose around his soul choke it to death.

FINIS


End file.
